Page 6 of The Duke and the Darkness

He laughed. Not afford imaginary money? He had nothing to lose but a thousand pounds from his original bet, and hours of pleasure to be gained. “Matched.”

His luck had finally changed. The hand rested on one last card he was confident he’d win.

The manager placed down the last cards. A deuce for Devlin, a four for her.

A moment’s hesitation gripped the room as all the onlookers held their breaths, followed by shouts of disbelief that Dartmoor had been beaten. By a woman.

Devlin laughed good-naturedly along with them. The damage to his reputation would sting for a while, but he knew what the true wager had been and how he would ultimately emerge a winner tonight regardless of the cards.

He pushed himself away from the table, then held out his hand to help her to her feet. He squeezed her fingers as theyrested in his and sketched her a shallow bow. Hours of wanton pleasure were promised in that gentlemanly gesture.

She slipped her hand away and unassumingly collected her coins and banknotes as the crowd around them dispersed back to the other tables, the spectacle now over. He was glad of it. Fewer people would notice that they were about to leave the game room at the same time, and not for the front door.

She rested her hand on his bicep, and the soft touch radiated up his arm and into his chest. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find the retiring room. I should refresh myself before we continue the rest of this evening’s games.” As she picked up her earbobs, the sultry look she gave him made his mouth water. “Don’t you agree?”

He would have agreed to nearly anything as long as she kept looking at him like that. As if she wanted to hunt him like prey.

She turned to the manager. “Would you be kind enough to settle my tallies on His Grace’s account?”

The manager’s eyes darted curiously to Devlin, who nodded his consent. “Of course, ma’am.”

Devlin chuckled at her audacity. She’d not only publicly bested him; now she expected him to pay for her food and drinks for the evening, as well.

But of course he would. And breakfast, too.

As she began to move away, he took her elbow from behind and stopped her. He lowered his head over her shoulder, close to her ear. “Who are you? Tell me now. I have to know.”

She tensed beneath his fingertips. For a moment, he thought she wouldn’t answer—

“Lady Payne.”

He scoffed at that with a short laugh. “You’re lying.”

She slowly pulled her arm from his light grasp and said cryptically beneath her breath, so softly he was certain hemisheard, “When you meet the devil in the darkness, he never gives you his true name.”

Then she slipped away through the gaming room toward the front of the hell, smiling her appreciation as she went to those gentlemen who congratulated her on her play.

He stared after her, frowning.The devil in the darkness… What the hell did she mean by that?

But he wasn’t concerned. After all, he had the rest of the night to wheedle her true identity out of her. And enjoy himself immensely in the process.

Devlin pulled the spare cigar from his breast pocket and lit it on the tabletop brazier. “Patton,” he ordered the manager, “I’m going to need a key to one of the upstairs rooms and a fresh bottle of cognac. We’ll want breakfast in the morning.”

Patton hesitated. “Perhaps you should settle up first, Your Grace.”

He laughed. “What’s to settle?”

“Thirty-one thousand pounds.”

His heart skipped. For a long moment, he only stared at the manager, the cigar clamped between his teeth as he tried to fathom… “She had no money. She wagered air.”

“But she did have funds, Your Grace.” Patton gaped at him. “I thought—I thought you knew—”

Cold dread seeped through him like ice water. “Knew what?”

“She took out a marker when she arrived, using a land deed as collateral. For forty thousand pounds. All her bets were backed by the club.”

Christ.